


IV

by kawada_s



Category: Battle Royale - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 01:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11197350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawada_s/pseuds/kawada_s
Summary: Ordinary dinner times. Ordinary days. Ordinary lives brought to a screeching halt by the worst news imaginable.Four moments. The moment four relatives of the children of Shiroiwa Junior High's Ninth Grade Class B found out their child probably wasn't going to come home.





	IV

Four

**I: One**

It had been about five years now since Taki and Shun Sasagawa had eaten dinner in the same room. They knew that if they attempted to unite as a family again, it would only end with yet another fight being integrated into the daily schedule, one that Taki desperately did not want to add. The only reason they stayed together – if you could even call it that – was for the children, and now there seemed to be no point in even staying for them anymore. The children were fourteen and twelve, but already she and her husband seemed to see so little of them it was as if they had already completely grown.

Tonight was no different. Shun was in the living room and she at the bare dining table, staring down into her bowl as she forced herself to keep eating. Junzo hadn’t been hungry, he’d told her, and had promptly slammed his door once she’d walked away, adding softly that there would be some left if he wanted some later. Ryuhei… well, she had no idea where Ryuhei was most of the times these days. He’d gone off on a study trip this morning – quite a surprise, him going on a study trip – and was no doubt making trouble somewhere now to delay coming home.

At least, that was the easiest explanation. She still couldn’t believe thinking of her son shoplifting and drinking a beer in some grungy place was more preferable to the thoughts in the back of her mind. _He’ll be home soon,_ she told herself, eating a little faster now. The food did not have the ‘warm hug’ effect on her insides that she was hoping for. _It’s just Ryuhei being Ryuhei._

He wouldn’t want to worry her, she knew that. As much as Ryuhei liked to pretend he was the roughest boy on the block, he was one of the softest people she knew. He cried at little things, despite the fact he tried his hardest to keep himself intact, and had a place in his heart for his family that he hoped no one would notice. Really, he wouldn’t want to worry her. If he knew she was dying inside as the hours ticked by, he’d hate himself.

The clanging of Shun placing his bowl by the sink pulled her out of her thoughts. Her blood began to boil. _Isn’t he worried at all?_ At least, in the circumstances tonight, with Ryuhei being gone – gone unusually late – that he’d think of her just this once and do his own dishes. This apparently isn’t the case, as he’s out of the kitchen before she can even yell at him. He seemed in a hurry actually, she observed, trying to shove away her rage.

That’s when she realised the phone was ringing. She got up and ran faster to that phone than she had ever in her life. She wasn’t going to let _him_ be the one to answer that call. She wrenched the phone off the wall, Shun’s eyes widening as he finally seemed to _get_ what she was thinking. Maybe it was just going to be the police. The school, saying they’d met traffic on the road. It wasn’t, though – she was just trying to hope. Her own mother had done the same thing, when Taki had been Junzo’s age, on a night just like this one.

Despite the fact he had headphones on, blasting music that is definitely not Republic-approved, Junzo heard the sound of the phone clattering onto the wooden floor. He tentatively took of his headphones, pausing the music before taking careful steps downstairs, almost toppling down them when he came to a screeching halt at the scene he saw. His parents were collapsed on a heap… holding each other.

It was not the moment he was hoping for that would unite his family. Not his mother, sobbing into his father’s shoulder as he tried not to cry himself, mumbling the name of the brother he now really wished he hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to this morning. Now he’ll never get a chance.

He doesn’t interrupt them. Instead, he stays on the stairs, gripping the railing as tight as he can, trying to grasp the fact that Ryuhei will never be coming home.

 

**II: Discovery**

Everything on the television is absolute shit. Nanami only kept it on for background noise, giving the tiny apartment a little life, even if it’s manufactured, badly acted, and pointless. It gave the illusion that she wasn’t alone at the table as she slurped down her soup, it as awful as the show on the screen. The taste of the soup was the last thing on her mind, though. Her eyes were fixed on the papers strewn across the table, as well as two small photographs – one old, one new.

She doubted that the new one had been taken with consent – after all, it was the private investigator who had given it to her, only going that far as she was a somewhat friend, hiding somewhere until she finally thought she wouldn’t be caught. She was grateful for the most part, but a little lost as well. She had _wanted_ to find her, she really had, but had never actually expected it.

There she was, though, the same girl from the small photograph she’d gotten in the mail from the father they shared. Her eyes were a vibrant brown but at the same time, looked a little dull and dead. Their father’s nose and jaw. Her expression was unable to be read, giving Nanami absolutely no clue to what type of person she was. She didn’t really care though – she was her half-sister. She’d love her no matter what, right?

She wasn’t so sure when she’d get to meet her, but she was still holding out hope that she would soon – but it was more practical to just say ‘one day.’ She wasn’t even sure if she knew she existed, or if she’d want to hear her, but again, she would just have to hope. Life hadn’t been the kindest to her yet, but maybe her luck would change eventually. Maybe she would be able to meet her, and they’d connect, and things would finally show some sense of improvement.

Of course, at that point, the phone rang. She approached it slowly, already cautious. No one ever called her, really – had the private investigator found out something new, maybe? She wasn’t so sure, but decided to answer it anyway. If she didn’t, they may keep calling until she answered. Some people, as irritating as it was, never got the message when she wanted to be left alone.

She was prepared to snap at them, be as rude as possible until they left alone, but all irritation melted away when the caller spoke. It was a cool, eerily calm and collected voice, with a slight sinister tone. The voice could only belong to one person – a government official. Her grip tightened on the phone, and she forced herself to tighten her grip on the phone and answer as politely as she could.

When her half-sister’s name – _Mitsuko_ , sounding so strange coming from the awful man’s lips – came up in conversation, she tensed for a moment before realising she was being stupid. Of course they knew. The government knew everything and everything about everyone, had eyes and ears in all place. While you may think you were safe in the moment, it was impossible to keep a secret from the Republic of Greater East Asia in the long run.

Still, she hadn’t thought she had done anything horribly wrong by looking for her sister. It didn’t take long to realise they weren’t after her, though. _They just wanted to inform her of the lovely news._

Even after the awful man had ended the call, she tried to keep herself together. There was still a chance – a minor one, though, of course, that things would be okay. Maybe her sister could do this. She could survive this shit and get home. After all, they’d never met – who knew how strong she was?

She picked up the photo – the new one, the one that showed what she’d look like now, on her way to that stupid, stupid game, and ran her fingers over it. _Fight hard, little sister. You can do this._

**III: Acceptance**

It was not out of the ordinary for the house to be silent when Hasumi and Motoki Noda returned home. It was just part of the schedule. As per their advice, their daughter Satomi lived by one almost religiously. On the agenda today was a study trip, which would be followed by a trip to the library once they had returned, arriving home as soon as the place closed. They didn’t worry about her much. Satomi was fine, she was capable, and incredibly clever too. It was a relief she was so independent.

Dinner was hastily prepared, leftovers from the night before. Satomi was the only one who ever really cooked – her parents were too busy to bother most of the time. Really, what would they do without her? They filled the mealtime with pointless chatter, about the latest case at work, the group of rebels – _complete wastes of space, they are_ – that had been caught and promptly executed a few weeks ago, the celebration coming up to honour the leader of the Republic soon. None of it meant anything.

The Noda family didn’t do sentimental. It was easier not to talk about things anymore. It had been that way since Ayaka had dropped dead at her high school graduation when Satomi was eleven. All talking had stopped from that day on, from the minute that Hasumi had removed the photographs of Ayaka from the wall and scrubbed all traces from her from the home. As it was only a tragic accident, an aneurysm, a one in a million occurrence, it wasn’t government policy to do so, but Hasumi did it anyway. It made her feel better.

The pounding on the front door gave them some sort of substance  in their lives. Hasumi pushed her bowl away, proclaiming she was full anyway, and went to the door, her husband following along behind her. It couldn’t be Satomi, she knew that – the girl was too smart to forget her keys. At least, she hoped so.

When she saw the official at the door, she both relaxed and worried at the same time – what had her husband done? She had done nothing, of course, the model citizen, with so much love in her heart for their leader it was a wonder she had any left over for her family. It was unfortunate, really, but if he had done something, it would be for the best to hand him over. Their leader would want it, which meant as a default, she wanted it too. It was for the greater good – not just for her, but their country.

Her family was free of wrongdoing. In fact, the news, for her at least, was rather positive. Motoki went rather pale behind her, trying his hardest to hide the rage boiling inside him. Their child – their only remaining child – had been chosen for one of the highest honours their country gave – not that he would ever call it that. That was a fact he tried his hardest to keep hidden. He let his wife do the talking, nodding and smiling at the right times, fighting hard to hold back his sigh of relief when the door shut.

Hasumi didn’t return to the table, or collect the dishes to begin to wash them. Instead, she did something Motoki considered worse than trying to return to normalcy. She delicately removed Satomi’s last school photograph from the wall, a gaping hole that used to be Ayaka’s right beside it. The wall now completely bare, he felt ill. This was all completely wrong.

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t we wait until we hear that she has…” Motoki couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he decided to skip over that part and simply go to the end, “before you start taking down the photographs?”

“I think it is for the best to do it now,” Hasumi said. It was her way of saying she didn’t want to potentially anger _them_ – the government. She took down the rest of the photographs on the wall, Motoki glued in place. By tomorrow morning, it would be as if they had never had any children at all.

When Hasumi disappeared upstairs with four trash bags, he buried his head in his hands. He didn’t want to forget.

 

**IV: Routine**

Ever since her husband died over a decade ago, ending his reign of terror over the household, the home had been a rather peaceful place for Kaori Sakaki. For her, the biggest mark of this comes with family dinner. They never had much, but it was a time to pile the food on the table, dig in and speak about the day without any sort of fear that what you said could trigger an explosion. It was the time when the house felt the most alive. The thought of anyone taking her family dinners from her was a fear that remained prominent in her mind for quite a while. Recently, it had faded for her, and she was beginning to accept the fact that things were going to stay the same, that luck was going to be on her side and let her have that moment.

Things had gone amiss, however, as awful as it was. It had begun in the morning, with the study trip. She did not want her daughter to go. Yuko herself had not wanted to go, well, Kaori could tell she didn’t, despite the fact that she kept on telling her that she’d fine, that her friends would take care of her. The sun had gone down, the sky pitch black, and she still hadn’t returned – it hadn’t been an overnight study trip, she was sure of it. Something had happened. Yuko would never, ever just disappear.

She went on with dinner as if nothing was wrong, filling their plates with the best meal she could provide, the cupboards almost empty. Ichiro, her son – older than Yuko – could tell something was wrong, but didn’t say a word between bites. If he tried to bring up Yuko being gone, he knew she would fall apart. He couldn’t have that. It would destroy him to see her break down.

At the knock on the door, Kaori just about jumped out of her seat. She insisted she’d get it, told Ichiro to keep eating, to enjoy his meal, and reluctantly, he stayed put. Wrapping her cardigan around herself tightly, she opened the door slowly, wincing at the sound of the creaking. She became completely alert at the sight of the man in uniform there.

Ichiro listened, watching as he ate, until finally, the news was delivered. He pushed the plate away so harshly it slipped off the side of the table, smashing on the floor. Immediately, all the attention was on him.

Kaori watched as the younger boy returned. The boy who would jump between her and her husband, taking all the beatings. The boy who took an ashtray to the head for his little sister. The boy who, just like now, stomped up to him and yelled every curse word under the sun, telling him he’d tear him apart if he didn’t stop.

This was worse than a beating.

The sound of the gun rattled her bones. A few of the neighbours peered out of their windows, catching the sight of Ichiro slumped on the ground, his head exploding as another shot was fired. They drew their blinds and went back to their dinners, it easiest to pretend there was nothing at all.

Kaori’s son remained on the ground after the man had left. It was up to her to clean up the mess she had created.

It was not long after that she completely stopped eating dinner.

Everything hurt too much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. This is more of a vent fic than anything. My grandmother passed away yesterday, and I just needed to get my feelings onto the page. I don't exactly feel much better, but it helped a bit. 
> 
> If you're suffering with a loss, remember you aren't alone. It's one of the hardest things to ever face, but I promise someone will be there for you. If anyone ever needs to talk about a loss they've faced, whether recent or old, feel free to message me on my tumblr. I love you all <3


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